


Peace Finds Hermione

by NuclearNik



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coping, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 19:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20681069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik
Summary: While on a quest for peace, Hermione stays in a seaside cottage in Wales and discovers a new hobby.





	Peace Finds Hermione

Hermione had always loved the sea. When she was young, her parents would take her to the beach as often as they could. They’d pack a picnic, window shop in the little stores along the boardwalk, and stop for a treat at the ice cream parlour. Hermione would kick off her shoes and dance in the shallows with sticky ice cream dripping down her face. The delighted giggles she made were her mother’s favourite sound.

In the months immediately following Voldemort’s defeat and the subsequent ending of the war, she often found herself walking along the shore, watching the tide roll in and out. It was the most peaceful place she could imagine, and in those days she _so desperately _ needed peace. 

When she was older and established in her career, she’d bought a tiny cottage from a relative in Swansea. A place just for her, somewhere she could go to get away and be alone.

It was there in that cottage that she discovered her love of writing. Her mother had gotten her a beautiful bound journal on her seventeenth birthday, telling Hermione that writing out her troubles had helped her so much, and perhaps it would be the same for Hermione. A safe place to dump her feelings. Hermione wasn’t so sure, but she told her mother she would try.

She didn’t. 

Not for a good few years, at least. But then, one day, she’d found herself sitting by the window in her cottage, a gentle afternoon breeze ruffling the linen curtains. The journal had been tucked away on the bookcase from the moment she’d bought the place, and Hermione had forgotten that it even existed. It caught her eye that day, and she decided it couldn’t hurt to at least open it and scribble down a few words like her mother wanted.

So she did. She started writing, and she didn’t stop until the world had gone dark and the moon was high up in the sky.

It had felt _ so good_. Like therapy. 

From that moment on, she wrote nearly every day. Even if it was just a few words about the weather, she made the effort to write something, _ anything. _

It took some time for Hermione to be able to let the words flow without self-policing, without editing as she went. But when she finally figured that out, it was like _magic._

She wrote about her early life, about her childhood and when she learned she was a witch. She wrote about how relieved she was to learn that she wasn’t a weirdo or a freak, but someone that had been blessed with the gift of magic, someone who had power within her.

She wrote about the war, about what she had felt while on the run with Ron and Harry, hunting down shards of a madman’s broken soul. How lonely it was, how it had broken her heart to see Ron walk away from them—from her.

She wrote about after the war when they’d all been trying to find their way, trying to find a path out of the rubble and misery left by behind. She wrote of how it felt to have stolen her parent’s memories away for their safety, only to find out there was no way to restore them. 

No one else ever read her words. But that was okay. It wasn’t for them. 

It was for Hermione. A way to take back her peace of mind that had been stolen from her at a young age.

Writing kept her sane, and she would never stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hermione's Nook's Happy birthday, Hermione collection. My prompt was "peace."
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


End file.
